Finally With You
by Jennifer Darknight
Summary: Alfons was fine, he was OKAY, and it could only go up from there. Edward Elric x Alfons Heiderich


Alfons didn't remember much about before the surgery. His body was lying there during the full process, lifeless, covered in tubes and wires and plastic sticks, making him look like a living lab rat—almost suspended in a half-asleep, half-awake state that he would never get up from, thanks to the drugs. It was hard to say whether or not Edward had ever looked at the body with disgust, or even fear for the man that was lying there those few months (it was assumed that it was the latter, though he would never let anyone go with him to confirm or deny such suspicions).

Some said that Edward would steal into his room in the dead of night, crying over him when the nurses wouldn't look and the Alchemic doctors were far off in their own beds, readying themselves for sleep.

Others said that Edward wouldn't see him at all, rather moping in some distant corner of elsewhere, kicking the dirt and glaring at the sky as if he was challenging God himself, simply daring him to do anything that might cause a negative conclusion to the situation of the boy sleeping in that hospital in this land far, far away from his own.

Alphonse wasn't sure what to think.

A boy who looked like him was in the hospital, suffering from a condition that would have cost any normal person their lives, if his brother hadn't dragged him there for treatment. Bloody clothes, bloody face, bloody coughs, so much _blood_…

There was blood, so much blood…

And yet, in a few short months (though long for any serious Alchemic medical process), the coughing subsided, the man's body's tension eased from a taut bowstring to a limp noodle, and those eyes that would only be dull and glassy before, had started to glimmer and sparkle, revealing a warmth and softness that Alphonse had only imagined in the other's eyes before.

His brother had asked to be with him after the doctors had let him know that he was free to go. Well, more like 'demanded', letting them all know quite clearly who was paying for the operation in the first place (operation on what?) , and when they asked for family notification…

Alphonse shuddered at the memory.

Luckily nobody was hurt in _that_ explosion.

But even so…

There his Brother was, walking out the door with a young man who looked like _him_, but wasn't him.

He had wanted to follow, but he knew that he couldn't.

He had wanted to ask questions, but he knew that he shouldn't.

All he could do was watch, as his brother and the young man walked out of the office…

Tomorrow.

He would go over to his brother's flat, bring Winry, ask all about…_this_…and discuss it all tomorrow.

---

Edward Elric had never even considered that he'd think of another man as 'beautiful'. There was Alphonse, who as his younger brother was the cute-who-could-not-be-knocked-down, perfection in flesh, softness with the body of a thousand rocks that could knock him dead with very little effort (damn him). His little brother, the one he would give his life, heart, soul, and everything just to make smile…

And for a while, perhaps he had thought that about Alfons, too. It was hard to tell really, looking at him now. The resemblance was only fleeting, from a distance, though even now Edward was lost for words on how to describe _how_.

He was sitting on the bed now, white shirt clinging to a bony frame, which was only made thinner by lack of food and a constant diet of IV fluids. Slight atrophying was noticeable in the legs and arms from lack of movement, and his almost constant drug-induced state for the past few months was showing in his face—the lack of color obvious.

Alfons had been _sick_ before…

Was this the Alfons Heiderich that he knew? The same guy that he worked with? The same guy who was sick, trying to make the best of his dream before he died? The same guy who he had roomed with, talked with, and even shared his stories of home with?

Was he really just finally _fine_, after all this time?

It was almost hard to believe.

No—it _was_ hard to believe.

It was almost like a dream.

It made him wonder why Al hadn't followed along…he was sure that the two of them, Al and Alfons, would have gotten along well. Probably they would have grabbed an armful of kittens and puppies, hidden them in the basement, and tried to raise a damn farm of the furry bastards without Ed's knowledge.

But all Alphonse had done was stand with Winry, seeing the two of them off with a quizzical look accompanied with a wave.

What was _that_ all about?

He'd have to talk to Al about it later.

"Edward?"

Alfons's voice was soft. Almost too soft for what he was used to. Before it had been mellow, but laced with a slight rasp that almost made it sound like a purr…now it was just soft, quiet.

Not the Alfons voice that he knew.

But even so…

Edward smiled. He had to smile. Couldn't help it. He was _okay_, after all. Safe and fine and _not going to die_, all the while away from that crazy, war-obsessed world of his.

Alfons could be happy here.

"Yeah?"

The man shuffled his foot a bit, perhaps in an attempt to raise his knee to get his own shoe off. Ed had taken a step forward to assist, but Alfons had managed to get it himself, prying the thing off and setting it down, only to lift his other leg (shaky though it was), allowing his other shoe to join its mate.

"Where…are we?"

"We're in my world." Edward said, taking a seat next to Alfons on the bed. "Central City."

"Central?" Alfons blinked. When he looked like that, the Alfons he knew before was starting to come back—just like Edward knew he would, though it would probably take a bit of time.

"Yeah. That's…the capital city of my country. Remember? I told you about it."

"In Munich…that's right. Everything's very hazy, Edward. I can't remember very much."

"It'll come to you."

"I know it will. I'm just…" A sigh, and the lowering of a head. Typical Alfons. "One moment I'm barely breathing in Germany, hunched over my machines…and the next I wake up here, with you and a bunch of people I don't know looking at me."

"You mean you don't remember anything before that?"

Alfons looked up with a wan smile, shaking his head. "No, I don't. I wish I did. All I remember is waking up in the bed, seeing you, and being able to breathe better than I ever have in a long time."

"That means that the drugs they'd been doping you up with for the past three months finally got out of your system, and that you're gonna fully recover."

"'Recover'?"

"From your illness, idiot. You're not going to die."

"…if I hadn't have woken up where I was, or if you weren't the one to tell me, I probably would have punched you right now."

"Because everyone else you've seen and talked to has told you otherwise."

"Something like that."

Silence. More silence than before, anyway. Damn Central homes for not having thin walls, to at least filter some of the sounds in from outside. Perhaps this would have been less awkward. Munich was always noisy—if not from crying children or singing drunks than from cars passing, gunshots ringing out and loud bustling activity out on the streets. For a big city, Central's residential areas were rather peaceful…peaceful enough to send awkward silences into increased awkward silences. Alfons was too busy staring at his feet, pretty blue eyes glazed over with something Edward didn't quite notice or understand (fear? Resignation? Nostalgia? Understanding?), meanwhile Ed's hands were too busy shaking, too busy feeling the warmth emanating from the other's body and wanting to reach out for it. To touch it.

To do something.

Too many sleepless nights he had spent in Munich simply staring at the man. From a simple family resemblance to an unhealthy affection bred of an emotion he himself wasn't quite used to, gold eyes would only linger, watching. Never touching, refusing to touch. Alfons wouldn't have possibly gotten into it, he had kept telling himself, Alfons wouldn't have possibly ever wanted to try something like that with him. Alfons looked like Al (like his own brother—that was _sick_); he _didn't_ look like Al; he was from another world; Alfons would just fall in love with a pretty young girl and then walk away…_Touch_, contact. Both illegal but desperately wanted, instead dug deep under the surface with just insatiable _closeness_, teasing, sometimes making him want to _scream_…

_"Edward…" He had been standing in front of him. He remembered that. His workshirt was dampened with sweat, showing that the poor man, in his haste and excitement to just start __**working**__, had forgotten to put on an undershirt again. Both were in front of the thing…that damned circle, that would take the two of them home if Edward only touched it…_

_"Alfons." Edward managed to find his breath, his voice, watching the man. _

_"Going home?" How could his voice be so __**light**__, when only nights ago he had been coughing out blood into his hand, and when everything was about to end right here, right now? That, and when people could find the two of them right his minute?! _

_"…Something like that." _

_"I knew it." He was smiling. Always, always smiling, damn it. "That's why I made my way here. Even if nobody else did, I knew that you'd…" _

_"That I'd be here, right? That I'd try to go home, like I've been bitching about ever since I came to this damn world?" _

_"I wasn't going to put it quite so bitterly, but something like that." _

_"You weren't exactly fair to me when you left." _

_"I also wasn't in the full belief that there was another world either. At least…not until tonight." _

_"So what's this got to do with anything?" _

_A sigh, and the patter of footsteps as the man stepped closer. _

_Edward felt his palms start to sweat. _

_"I just…" The lower of eyes, the tremble of a lip, and GodohGod don't look like that, damn it…"I wanted to say goodbye to you, Edward. I knew that if I waited that you'd already be gone…"_

_"You didn't have to come to say goodbye." It would have been too hard, like it is right now, damn it… "You'll forget me in a few months anyway, right?" _

_"How can you say that? We lived together for __**two years**__, Edward." Ooops, probably not the best thing to say in a situation like this. All Edward's words seemed to do was make Alfons step closer, desperation inching into his voice. But what else was he supposed to say? It was true, damn it. "You don't just forget your roommate in a period of months. Besides, I'll be dead anyway before you know it." _

_"…."_

_"…Sorry. This is probably the last thing you want to hear before you go home." _

_"Damn right about that. Instead of getting a 'well-wishes, hope you get home safe', I get a 'I'll never get the chance to say goodbye to you because I'm dying and there's nothing you can do about it'." _

_"Then I guess I should get to the point then. I don't want to keep you from getting home." _

_"So there was a point other than telling me that you're going to die, you finally believe that I'm right about there being another world, and that you're sorry that you were a dick to me before?" _

_"I think you were the one being insensitive, Edward. Not me." _

_"What the—why is this pinned on me?! Are you trying to piss me off?" _

_"No; I'm trying to distract you." _

_"Wha—"_

_Edward didn't even realize that Alfons was right in front of him until he felt a pair of weak hands grasp the front of his shirt, pulling him close for a kiss._

_Kiss. _

_Edward. _

_Alfons._

_Kissing._

_Mouth met mouth, rough and wind-chapped met wet and soft, but Edward wasn't sure which was wet and which was chapped; all he cared about was that Alfons had grabbed him, those normally gentle hands attempting to be forceful, and had his mouth on his with enough force to knock him down and dizzy. _

_It took a few seconds and Alfons about to pull away before Edward had the sense to grab that idiot by the back of the head and kiss him back, hard. _

_Hell no. He wasn't letting him get away. _

_If this was a dream, then his dreams were really fucking cruel…_

_But if this was real, and Alfons was really kissing him…_

_Then…_

_Alfons had backed away with a moan, and Edward pulled him back to kiss him harder, rubbing his shoulders and pressing back harder…_

And that was it. Alfons had backed away then, hacking and coughing…blood was spilling from his mouth and Edward remembered panicking…he had grabbed Alfons, and slammed his hands on the circle, as hard as he could, even with the hacking man in his arms…

But Alfons wasn't coughing now. He wasn't hacking, he wasn't sick, he was _okay_.

And he didn't even remember that he had kissed him.

"Are you sure that you don't remember anything, Alfons?" He had to remember _that_ at least. It had been a few months ago, and Edward could still feel the warmth on his lips, and taste that small hint of oil on the tip of his tongue…

Alfons glanced up and blinked. Why did he have to look so _confused_?

And then he smiled.

Edward wanted to yell at his heart to stop racing, or maybe threaten it with a sledgehammer so he wouldn't hear it thundering in his ears, drowning out most of Alfons's voice:

"I don't remember anything, I'm afraid. I remember that I did something important…but that's about all. I wish I could remember."

_Important._

He'd definitely categorize that kiss as 'spontaneous', or 'fate-sealing', but certainly not 'important'.

"Why?" He was still smiling. Just like before. _Damn it._ "Did I do something in particular? Is there something that I should remember?"

_Of course you did. We fucking made out in the goddamn factory! _

"Y-Yeah…" he hoped his expression wasn't as nervous as he felt. "Something like that."

"Something like that?"

"Yeah, something like that!" _What, do you want me to just pin you down and kiss you, or what?! _

"Well it certainly can't just be _something_ when your face is red like that!"

"It's _not_ red!"

"It looks red to me."

"You also just got out of the hospital! You could be seeing things!"

"I could also be seeing things _now_ in a hallucination of death, though that doesn't seem very likely either, does it? Your face is red, Edward."

"So what if it is?" Damn man. Damn Alfons. Having the ability to rile him up like this. To make his hands shake more, to make his stomach knot, to make him want to just pin him down and kiss the life out of him…

"Then tell me why! I did something to cause that, right? The least you can do is tell me _why_! It's certainly not hard, and I couldn't have…"

"Do you really want to know?"

Edward hadn't realized that he had scooted closer to Alfons. They were close now…legs close enough to touch, and hands barely brushing each other on the sheet of the mattress…the bed was so much softer than their old one, and much larger; it was enough to fit two people, instead of enough to fit one anorexic person and another normal-sized person practically right on top of him.

Alfons didn't seem to notice.

And if he did, then he wasn't showing it. Or he just wasn't caring.

_He was the one who kissed __**me**_.

"I'd like to." Alfons was so damn oblivious. It almost hurt. "I'd certainly like to know what I did that affected you so much."

"Affected me, huh?" _You don't know the half of it._

Now it was Alfons moving closer.

For the love of—their legs were touching.

"Didn't I?"

"Well, yeah."

Their faces were too damn close. Alfons was only six inches away from him, so damned close he could feel his breath wash over his face, as they turned to look at each other.

Edward wanted to lean forward.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it!_

"Then what was it?"

"Well…I…can't exactly _tell_ you." He could, but that was beside the point. "I'd have to show you."

There was that blinking again. "Show me?"

"Yeah."

Blue eyes blinked one more time. Twice more. Three times more, with surprise. Slight surprise, moderate surprise, Edward didn't know and he honestly didn't care…watching the slight movement of the blonde's lips as he seemingly contemplated the action. Sickly pale skin taking on a slight pink flush, color returning to where there was none, the eyes were sparkling like they had used to, mouth almost taking on its former hue…

Edward's heart thumped as he suddenly remembered why he considered Alfons Heiderich beautiful.

Why those feelings had bubbled up inside him in the first place, damn them to hell anyway.

And that smile. The eyes closing and the mouth forming in that damned _smile_.

"All right then, Edward." He said, "It's a little strange when you're acting like this, but go ahead. I trust you."

It took all of a half a second for Edward to pounce.

He didn't even notice Alfons's surprised cry as metal and flesh mismatchedly met shoulders, pinning the taller figure down onto the mattress. A mouth attacked, hungry, grasping onto that pale body like his life depended on it, tasting that all-too-familiar oily flavor all over again. It tasted like shit, just like oil should taste (though why the man would taste like _oil_ was beyond him—he worked on rockets, he sure as hell didn't _eat_ them!), but it was still sweet and warm because it was _him_. The scent of hospital and medicine mixed with that natural scent of indoors and Munich streets, the sounds of medium-pitched whimpers coming out of some throat that Edward didn't care to try to recognize (whether it was his own or Alfons's, he didn't care), the feeling of starched shirt under his fingertips…

Alfons's hands dug into his shirt, pulling him closer, with something that sounded like a _moan_ coming from his lips.

"Edward..."

So maybe showing him _was_ the right idea.

His lips left the other's and moved to the chin, nibbling clumsily around it and down to the throat, down to the collarbone even though the rest of him was annoyingly covered with that damn shirt.

He'd have to get rid of that later.

"Edward, ah…w-wait…"

_Fuck_. _Fuck, I screwed up. I did too much, or maybe even too little, damn it, I screwed up __**fuck**__…_

Edward looked up, positioned himself up, bracing himself for the initial glare or demanding look…or even for that frightened puppy look that Al gave him whenever he wanted to get his way, or even worse, a…

A train of thought that would have been suddenly stopped, the moment he stared down at the one he had been kissing before.

Those eyes were too damned _warm_ to have been upset.

Then what the hell—why ask him to stop?

"That…I…"

He opened his mouth once. Twice to speak.

It seemed like he had found his voice again.

"I kissed you?"

He certainly didn't sound _disgusted_, though then again he didn't sound disgusted when he was snogging the living fuck out of him before, either. More of a mixture of surprise, shock, and maybe a bit of embarrassment, if the flush in his cheeks had anything to say about it (though that could have been because not even three minutes before, their mouths were attacking each other mercilessly).

"Something like that, yeah."

"And you didn't punch me?"

"You're asking me this when I pinned you down before?"

"Well forgive me for being under the impression that it's not exactly normal to harbor romantic feelings for your roommate, Edward."

"'Abnormal'? Fuck, it's 'different', but not a disease. If anything you'd be the one disgusted with me."

"The brother complex is sometimes a bit creepy, I'll admit that."

"And yet you still kissed me."

"I'm also not your brother."

"Gee, thanks for pointing it out. I never would have guessed."

"Even after pinning me down and kissing the life out of me, you're ever the charmer."

"Fuck you! Al never put me through this sort of shit."

"Al would also never kiss you like this, I'd reckon."

"Prick."

"Should I take that as a pet-name now, with the amount of times you call me that?"

"You…You…"

Edward's eyes flared, instinct taking over as he grabbed the other man by his arm, sitting up and yanking hard enough to allow Alfons to follow, hardly noting the fact that he was now _in his lap_, straddling the taller man and close enough to start kissing all over again.

_Fucking idiot. Careless moron. Almost fucking died, could have gotten yourself killed, not only for being in the factory but not __**taking care of yourself**__…__**would**__ have died if I hadn't have brought you here…Damn you. God damn you. _

"Edward…? Are you all right…?"

"Just shut up and don't move." Those arms that had moved to encircle around the man's shoulders not only seconds before tightened, trembling. Or was that Alfons trembling? Maybe it was him. Maybe it wasn't.

"Edwa—"

"I said, shut up. The hell would you have done if I hadn't dragged you here? You could have died just following me, you idiot. You just had to _follow_ me into that room, didn't you? They could have caught you before you came up to me. And just so you could give me a damned _kiss_. What were you _thinking?!_"

Alfons said nothing—and even if he did, Edward didn't care. Alfons was fine now, _here_…but what if he had not come to find him? Or rather, if he had, but had not kissed him and just left? He could have died, if not by gunshot, but by coughing his guts out on a floor somewhere, with nobody to help him. If he had been _smart_, he would have refused to work with those Thule bastards in the first place. If he had been _smart_, he would have kept away from the fumes and let his lungs get better, like the doctors had kept telling him. If he had been _smart_…

_If he had been smart, he wouldn't be with me now, goddamn it…_

"I was going to die anyway." Alfons responded finally, moving his own arms to wrap around Edward's waist. "It was worth the risk, at least to see you again."

"What, did you have a change of heart after bitching me out? Decided that instead of hating me and thinking I was scum on the bottom of your high-and-mighty German shoe, you wanted to kiss me instead?"

He knew he was being unfair. He didn't care. It didn't make any _sense_ (not that he was complaining, of course). One minute the man was acting as if he was the idiot-to-end-all-idiots, and that he couldn't possibly understand any sort of pain or suffering that he ever had, and then the next he follows him into a place that if he had been caught, he would have been fucking _killed_, all for one kiss?

It was nonsensical.

It was impulsive.

It was _stupid_.

…It was very much something that Edward would have done, goddamn it.

A sigh followed, and one hand rose, touching Edward's hair, featherlight on the top of his head. The other stayed at his waist.

"…I honestly can't remember, Edward. I can only give you assumptions as to what I was thinking back then based on how I feel now, but I'm sure that I just wanted to see you again. I remember how I felt after yelling at you before; I was hurt. What was I supposed to say—'fine, whatever you say, Edward. I should stop pursuing the dream I had been chasing all my life, because a world that might not exist could be attacked by my creations'. I couldn't do that. You know that. I know that. You wouldn't have given up your dreams for me. In fact, you just seemed to drag me right along with them."

"You were the only one who listened, Alfons." Edward's voice was tiny. A whisper. "I know you didn't believe me, but you didn't throw me into a hospital, or laugh at me. You at least humored me, so I thought…I thought that maybe…somewhere in there, that you would believe what I was saying–"

"I know. You truly believed everything you told me, and it turns out that every single one of them was true. I was the stubborn idiot in the end, Edward. But at the time, I was just so angry. I was dying, I was in pain. I knew I was going to go soon and then you tell me something like _that_. No normal person from my side would believe it. You know that."

Alfons's body shivered, though Edward himself wasn't sure if that was from the cold.

"Then why," Edward swallowed. "Why the hell did you believe me when I told you that you were in Central? You were so fucking out of it when you were in the tubes, I could have told you anything and you would have believed it."

"We don't have hospitals that advanced in Germany, Edward. Not even America or Britain has hospitals like that, and they're on the cutting edge of medical technology." Alfons paused, taking a breath. "That, and I don't think you would lie to me about something that's so important to you. All you ever wanted was to get back home—why would you lie to me about it? What would you gain from it? You always lived in your own little world in Munich, Edward—but you were never a liar."

"And you still yelled at me about me mentioning my world."

"I thought we went over that. And even so…I'm wrong, and you're right. In the end, things really did turn out the way you had said they would. About you coming home, I mean."

"I didn't think I'd ever come home, Alfons."

The taller man cringed, and then shivered.

"Just like I didn't think that I was going to live."

"Well we're both here, and you're alive now and I'm alive and both of us are alive and well and healthy." A pause. "…for the most part. So just for one fucking day, lay off the angst, quit worrying about dying, and just be _happy_ that you're _alive_ for the first time in your whole damn life, all right?"

Another sigh.

"I love you too, Edward."

_Lov—wait, what?! _

'Love'?

Just the sound of the word, in that accented English, rolling off Alfons's tongue sent a tingle down Ed's spine; did he even know what he was talking about? 'Love'. They weren't even really 'together', only kissed each other twice and never really discussed what their feelings were, and yet he was already running off about 'love'? Sure Ed had thought about him. He would stare at him, watch him, sometimes even worry for him, at times become desperate for that touch that he never thought he would ever receive, and drown in his eyes and voice until he felt that he couldn't get up from himself and get out of that stage where nothing but that man's fucking _name_ existed…but 'love'?

Love was for those who married…spent their entire lives together…for those who a person needed to be close to at all times…to hold, to kiss, to touch. To be near and take care of, to keep by their side at all times no matter the cost. Love was for family, but also for lovers, husbands, wives…

Who the fuck _was_ Alfons now?

Did he love him?

Did he _need_ him?

Did he…?

Edward clung to the man tighter, almost possessively, burying his head into Alfons's chest.

_Maybe. Maybe I do. Who the fuck knows? _

All that mattered was that Alfons was there, and that he was there, and that somehow, somewhere, there was plenty of peace with the world.

…Peace enough for Edward to start nibbling on Alfons's skin again.

"Shut up and get on your back, Alfons."

The response was nothing more than a throaty moan.

And Ed could only grin against his skin.

---

Edward had a lot of items on his track record. He was the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People, was the only one who could transmute Mustang's car and get away with it, had a brother complex enough to begin a fascination with the alternate of his brother (which didn't even lead into a brother complex when it started to grow into more than that)…

And now he could say that he was, officially, not a virgin anymore.

Alfons had curled up beside him, his taller frame feeling quite awkward against Edward's much smaller one, though it wasn't like Edward really cared as Alfons was against him and the two of them were close as they could be. He should have known that Alfons was going to be a cuddler after sex; it only seemed right, especially with the soft smiles, and the man's damned gentle disposition.

He could even feel a few small kisses pressed against his chest…

And that hushed "I love you" that Edward didn't think that he was supposed to hear.

Though he had to feel sorry for him. Alfons's poor ass looked like it was going to break in half, especially after he pulled out (_shit, shit…I didn't go too hard, did I? He could move all right, and he stayed on the bottom, but he just came out of the hospital—the hell was I thinking?!_). It was a wonder he didn't punch him in the face, or at least complain a little…

Though it wasn't like either of them really had the energy to complain.

He was _exhausted_.

Those sleepless nights in Munich, simply staring at the man and waiting for something—be it touch, a sound, a whisper, anything—for as long as he had done that, he never thought it would amount to anything. Alfons wouldn't come with him to his side, he wouldn't be with him, he certainly wouldn't have a horrible illness, get in the hospital for several months and then come out all right…

But…

He had. And they were.

Though if Al hadn't followed them…they wouldn't have been able to be like this. Why didn't he follow them in the first place, anyway? It didn't make sense.

Edward let out a soft sigh as his eyes drooped, flesh fingers absent-mindedly lacing into the locks of Alfons's short hair.

Tomorrow.

When Al came over, like he did everyday, he would corner him and ask him about it.


End file.
